The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson

The Girl Who Played with Fire (a sequel to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) is the second novel in the Larsson "I will soon be dead so i better crank out some international best sellers that i will never see a dime for" trilogy. Larsson wrote all three manuscripts before he died and did not get to see how popular they would become.

Like its predecessor, Dragon Tattoo, I inhaled this book. Larsson wrote modern, hard-boiled detective novels that you literally cannot put down. Both books have incredibly intricate plots spread over so many characters that it takes about half the novel to keep track of who is who. They center around an idealistic magazine editor and a socially awkward girl (who happens to be a genius) who unravel mysterious crimes, corruption, and government conspiracies. They are set in Sweden which can be a little confusing. Names are different and so is money. I still cannot tell you how much a kroner is worth. Every other page will say something like, the detective found 4000 kroner in her wallet (and you wonder is that a lot to be in a wallet, or not much at all...noooo idea), but once you get into the style and rhythm of the story it really hooks you.

Are these novels perfect? Absolutely not. I've actually never loved the incredibly observant free-wheeling hard boiled detective character who follows his own moral code while sleeping with every dame that crosses his path. And this is definitely that "hero", but there is something really enjoyable about the way Larsson tells his story that keeps me coming back for more. Both novels were great. I actually thought The Girl Who Played With Fire was better than the first novel, because it knew where its climax and ending was. A warning: if you choose to read these books, you do have to start with dragon tattoo to understand the plots of Fire, and Dragon tattoo does trail off a bit at the end. Everytime you think youve reached the dramatic conclusion its like BUT WAIT theres MORE. All in all, i would definitely reccommend these books for anyone who enjoys fast-paced thrillers.

In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan

Or "A Manhunt for the 2009-2010 Book Season"

I realize we're not even a month into this literary journey, but I'm pretty sure I just read my favorite book of the year. The last time I was this nerdgiddy about a book was last year's Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln's Killer, which I didn't think could ever be topped in terms of its edge-of-your-seat-informational-page-turner-ness. But Michael Pollan has matched it.

In Defense of Food is (as the cover says) an eater's manifesto: a look into how food science has replaced food culture, how foodlike products have replaced actual food, how industry and politics have divorced food from the natural world, how - in spite of America's obsession with "nutrition" and "healthy eating" - we have become more and more unhealthy, and (nerdbest of all) how to look at our relationship with food and eating in a healthy, productive, respectful way.

It's not a diet plan. Pollan never outlines exactly what we should or shouldn't do. He just presents some facts and philosophies and suggestions and leaves it to the reader to apply to his or her life. Some of his suggestions: Don't eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food. Don't eat anything with ingredients you can't pronounce. Eat your meals at a table (No a desk is not a table).

It's chock full of fascinating facts and insights. Whether you buy into it or not, it definitely makes you think about your relationship with food and nourishment and the natural world in a really constructive way. I, for one, totally buy into it, but then again I'm on a bit of a food-and-nature kick these days. This is the first in a string of food-related books on my YMR queue, so if any of you are interested in chatting about food culture in America, I'm your gal.

Pollen's main argument is seven words long: Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants.

Hard to disagree with that.

American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

Or "How Andy Lampl Ruined Thanksgiving."

I am wearing a dress from a thrift store, grey boots from Macy's, a scarf I bought from a street vendor in New York, tights from Target, and a necklace Reggie gave me, writing a review of a very disturbing book.

I won't say I liked it. I won't say I recommend it. But I will say that I thought it was very good and that, if you haven't, you should probably read it. And that I definitely dig this Mr. Ellis character and am looking forward to reading more of his stuff - although it will be awhile because I feel that I must regain the will to live before diving back into that awful world.

American Psycho is a miserable portrait of the young rich late-1980s Wall Street types told in first person through Patrick Bateman, an uber-rich 26 year old Wall Streeter-by-day-serial-killer-by-night. To describe the plot makes it sound like a trashy grocery store novel, but believe me it is not. It is part totally fucked up miserable psychological thriller gore fest, and part biting social commentary. It is nauseating, exhausting, and hilarious.

It's not a question of whether or not it is miserable to read. Without a doubt, it is the most miserable thing I have ever read. The question is what about it makes it most miserable? Because I can't decide. I honestly don't know which was worse to read: the way-too-long-and-detailed, violent, graphic, chauvinistic depictions of sex; the hideous descriptions of brutal torture and murder and hacked up body parts (including three vaginas that our hero keeps in his gym locker); or the scene where Patrick and some of his Wall Street buddies all talk on conference call and try to decide where they're going to eat that night. I am not saying that to be clever. Ellis's genius with American Psycho is that the rape and murder and disembowelment is just one part of Bateman's repulsive and meaningless lifestyle.

It's a horrifying look at isolation in the age of burgeoning technology, obsession with appearance and trends, where people's names and jobs and girlfriends are interchangeable and, ultimately, insignificant. Yes, he's a serial killer, but at the end of the day Patrick Bateman is just a sad lonely guy who can't even cook a meal for himself.

My warning to you, readers, is this: you can't un-read American Psycho. So just beware.

Now I have to go return some videotapes.

A conspiracy theory by Allison Sanchez

I think SOME people (I won't say any names, I'll just give you a very difficult clue that only the worthy could solve. His or her name rhymes with Schmeggie) out there are jealous that I read 2 books and was well on my way to finish a third.

The facts of the case are this, On Saturday November 22, A Miss Lauren Cozzens met me at a restaurant. And 'who is she?' some of you may be asking yourselves as you peruse this blog at your leisure. WELL, "she" is Reggie Gowland's FORMER ROOMMATE.

Now, I arrived at the restaurant (A MEXICAN restaurant no less-everyone knows that a sanchez would never turn down an invitation to eat the food of their homeland), with the book I was about halfway through: The Lost City of Z (I had spent time reading it on the El). Lauren sneakily asked me why I had a book at dinner and then cruelly made fun of me. She then offered to hold it for me in her purse and I NAIVELY handed it over. This book is then NEVER RETURNED to me. And I will now be unable to finish it, until a future date when I hunt this fiend down and pay ransom for my poor dear book. I will also have to start over on a third book which will completely throw me off toward my 50 book goal.

Am I saying that Reggie made up a fake movie, got people to invest millions of dollars in it, made sure Laurens production company was involved in the project, made sure they chose her to go live in Ann Abor for 3 months during the filming, and then diabolically sent her down to chicago this weekend to steal my book? Well I think the facts speak for themselves. This is war, Reggie Gowland. It's on.

Push by Sapphire

In an effort to read this before the movie, "Precious" (based on this book), came to town, I didn't need to worry about finishing on time as it's a very quick read and I couldn't put the book down. This is a short yet very disturbing story of Precious Jones, an obese, illiterate, sexually and emotionally abused, pregnant 16 year old from Harlem who can't catch a break no matter where she turns until she is enrolled in an alternative school where she finally begins to value herself after a lifetime of self-hatred. Don't get turned off by the author's use of language. The flow of the writing takes a little getting used to but is necessary to give a voice to this girl and her attempt at understanding how to survive the hand she's been dealt....a horrendous hand at that. Makes you realize what cushy lives so many of us lead. Makes me want to pick up something light and airy to read next!

You + Me = Us (Calculus)

I really liked this book. A lot.

This was a weird mashup of forty different possible answers to the big question of what exactly happens when we die. Funny, bizarre, quantum-physics-esque. Many were incredibly poignant. All gave you something to think about.

In one possible afterlife, you get to relive every moment that you've ever had on earth, except this time, all the moments are reshuffled and placed into categories. So, in the afterlife, you spend five months reading magazines on the toilet, three years swallowing food, three days calculating restaurant tips, twenty-seven hours experiencing pain, thirty years sleeping, eighteen days staring into the open refrigerator...

In another afterlife, you wake up and find out that you and the rest of the human race were really just creations, super-complex walking eating cameras that have a lifespan of 80+ years and are built to record all the marvels of earth and space and figure out the essential questions of the universe, cameras which were constructed by these tiny dim-witted immobile creatures that aren't big enough to explore earth on their own.

And 38 more. The writer, David Eagleman, is a neuroscientist, which may or may not buy this book some street cred, you know, depending on if you're into scientists or whatever. But regardless, it's a book that makes you think for a long time after you finish. And that's always a good kind of book, right?

The Gathering by Anne Enright

Actual Tagline of book: A moving, evocative portrait of a large Irish Family haunted by the past.

My (way more realistic) tagline: If you'd like to know what's motivating your actions, then why don't you ask your penis and/or vagina?

Honestly, I got so sick of every action of this book centering on sex. If someone had the urge to do the dishes, it was because of some burning desire in their loins. When one character meets another for the first time, not only do they picture the other naked, but the desired knows she's being pictured naked and loves it. And may I add that most of the sexual stuff was about the main character's grandmother? A direct quote, "When I was in college, I decided that Ada (her grandmother) had been a prostitute-the way you do." No, Veronica, I don't actually. Because NOBODY spends time imagining their grandma as a prostitute. But, I suppose I am getting ahead of myself, without further ado i present The Gathering: A review by Allison Noelle Sanchez:

This novel centers around Veronica, a middle-aged Irish woman from a very large family, whose brother has recently killed himself. As Veronica deals with her grief and guilt over the coming months she stops sleeping, becomes alienated from her children and husband and spends a great deal of time focusing on an obsession with her past. Namely, a past that revolves around her grandmother, Ada. Memories float through the narrative in non-linear fashion, some real (her childhood memories at her grandparents house) and many imagined (like her grandparents having sex on their wedding night).

I am torn about my feelings toward this novel. There were revelations about family behavior that I found brilliant and reread several times. Like the passage,

"Sitting on the Brighton train I am trying to put a timetable on my brother's drinking. Drink was not his problem, but it did become his problem, eventually, which was a relief to everyone concerned. 'I'm a bit worried about his drinking,'-so after awhile, no one could hear a thing he said, anymore."

And yet, there were also lot's of parts that i just found repetitive and boring. I found her sexual musings about her grandmother odd and ridiculous. When Veronica talks about memories or imaginings she breaks into this omniscent narrator voice and describes in detail events that she could not have witnessed personally, let alone get close enough to hear characters' thoughts. The author plays alot with memory and is constantly shifting her thoughts mid-sentance. I found this tool interesting at first. For instance, she starts describing she and her brother seeing her grandfathers body at a wake. Then suddenly she realizes it couldn't have been just the two of them there, another sister must have been there. And then she adds the sister into the narrative revising the earlier memory. While I enjoy the play on percieved versus real memory. This device was used so many times, that I started to get annoyed. This happened with lot's of things in the novel, the author does bring up an interesting point or idea, and then it's like if you don't get the point that is clearly spelled out the first few times? Don't worry the author will push that point home a few hundred more times to make sure you get it.

If you do decide to read this novel I will summarize the final 50 pages to save you some time:

So maybe none of that stuff that I remember happened. But it probably did. Except not most of it, I mean some memories have to be true. Or maybe not. I mean they probably happened. Unless they didn't. Maybe Ill go to spain. No i wont. Im gonna go home and have a baby with my husband. I hate him. but i love him. no i dont. Maybe ill go to scotland. On second thought, none of my memories are true. Yes, they are. No they aren't. They could be. Maybe they couldnt be. LIFE IS A BEUTIFUL MESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. (maybe not?) so just ignore everything i said. WAIT fooled you again, it was all true. haha no most of it wasn't. but some of it was......

Verdict: This novel felt like a great short story or novella that tried to stetch itself into an entire novel. It was tedious to get though and way too freudian for my tastes.